Argonian Bloodwine
by Queen Horker
Summary: He-Who-Stands alone has lived a solitary life at the Windhelm docks ever since the end of the Great War. But could a spark of hope for a new future show a hope for love for this child of the Hist? Cover image by theminttu on Tumblr
1. Chapter 1: He-Who-Stands-Alone

I DO NOT OWN SKYRIM OR ANY OF THE NPC'S OF THE GAME INCLUDED IN THIS STORY

Chapter 1:

He-Who-Stands-Alone

I was born a shadowscale. But by the time I came into the world, the order had been forgotten. I never went to the dark brotherhood for a family. I didn't need one, I stood alone. That's the obvious origin of my name, He-Who-Stands-Alone. The other argonians at the docks have taken it upon themselves to call me Lone. I've never really been the social type of hatchling, the only friends I made were in the imperial army, and they're all dead. I served for 3 years, which ended up giving me a more than a few battle scars. They called me the Marsh Killer. For my homeland and my stealth. Even though I never trained with the brotherhood, my birthsign still helped me easily sneak past the enemy lines. Alas, it was not enough, we were defeated by those hist-forsaken elves.. Which lead to us handing over our freedom, and dignity. That was 20 years ago. I joined the Empire when I was 17. Sure I'm an old lizard, but I still can do my fair share of work. Shahvee tells us argonians at the assemblage to stay positive. It's easier said than done what with the abuse from the nords and our almost unlivable pay. It's hard out here, but we stick together, as Scouts-Many-Marshes always says. Neetrenaza despises the nords almost as much as he despises the cold. Really it's not so bad if you just work a bit harder to keep up your body temperature. I've been saving up enough gold for a carriage ride to Riften. I'm a lot bigger than the other argonians, so I thought I'd become a mercenary after I leave the docks. Us argonians are more accepted than the Khajiit, which gives me something. Still, nordic prejudice follows our race almost everywhere, but today that will change for me. I'll gain respect in battle, possibly even become a thane in one of the holds, but today, it's payday. Which means I'll finally have enough to buy a set of armor and a ticket out of this horrible place. Torbjorn will be walking in with my key to freedom any second. The door of the assemblage swings open.

"Here's your pay, you scaly sacks of disease." Torbjorn throws a small bag of septims our way. We evenly distribute our pay, as we always do, 2 septims each. It's not much, but I've learned to find work elsewhere to satisfy my financial needs. I won't announce my departure. I leave the assemblage and make enter the city gate next to the docks. I've never been skilled at blacksmithing, but in my defense, I've never really had the opportunity to practice. I visit the local blacksmith, Oengul War-Anvil. He's once again shouting at his apprentice.

"Hermir, have you seen my good hammer?"

"No."

"Blast, girl, I told you to leave my tools alone. You have yours and I have mine."

"I didn't touch it!"

"Hammers don't have legs."

"Did you look behind the forge? I think I saw it there."

"Oh...yes. Now that you mention it, I think...sorry about that. Oh, it's a customer! Are you interested in buying a set of armor?"

I move closer to the forge. "Why yes, how's your steel?" I try to sound as though I'm an expert on the metal.

"Every bit as sharp as what you'd find in Whiterun. I respect Eorlund, but he has the good fortune to work at the Skyforge. Something about the fires...their steel just holds tighter. If that makes any sense."

"Of course it does. What would you say the price came up to?"

"For a full set? Including the helmet, boots, and shield? I'd say about 500 gold."

That's all the coin I have. "Say, would you happen to have a cheaper set?"

"I've got a full iron set, it'd come up at about 300 gold."

"You've got yourself a deal." I hand over three fifths of my gold.

"You're quite the large fellow, It'll take me until tomorrow to forge you a set."says Oengul while measuring my dimensions.

"I can wait. Just as long as I get it by sundown tomorrow."

"Of course." Hermir says from behind the anvil.

I decide to collect my things from the docks then stay the night in Candlehearth Hall, it would ease the feeling of treachery with my almost egg brothers and egg sister. But as I said, I never really called them family.

I walk over to the bar.

"This here's Candlehearth Hall, great room's upstairs, an' there's a bed for rent on the ground floor."

I give her 10 gold, "I'd like to rent a room."

"Sure thing, it's yours for a day. I'll show you to your room, right this way."

She guides me to the first room on the left. It's a quality room, no rats scurrying about like in the assemblage.

"Let me know if there's anything else you need. I've got some good baked bread and some cheese, if you're after a bite to eat."

"I'll have an ale an a horker loaf, if you could, milady."

"Gladly, here you go. Enjoy your stay, and don't break nothin'!"

It came up at 28 septims. I'm left with 172 gold, more than enough to make it to Riften.

I make my way upstairs to the great room and sit down at the table nearest to the stairs.

"Captain Lonely-Gale, I-I've been looking for you everywhere!" It's that nord woman Viola. She's obsessed with the town's Butcher, a man who has been murdering young women around the town.

"And now you've found me. Can I help you?"

"Have you thought about my invitation?" It's that nord woman Viola. She's obsessed with the town's Butcher, a man who has been murdering young women around the town.

"I've thought about it, but I'm not sure it's such a good idea."

"Oh, I see. Is it still too soon?"

"Yes, I think that must be it. My wife hasn't been gone that long, after all. Ask me again on another day."

"I'm sorry to be such a bother, we'll talk another time." What a busybody whore. I've never really liked any of Windhelm's residents. Especially the nords. They think that they're the kings and queens of this town. Like that miserable Talos-worshipping oaf Ulfric. He's just a big-headed racist. None of the argonians or dark elves have taken a liking to him. Mostly because he treats anyone who isn't a nord like dirt.

Speaking of dirt, in walks Rolff Stone-Fist. He points in my direction.

"You. You a Dark Elf lover? Get out of our city, you filthy piece of trash."he's drunk, as always.

"I don't like your attitude."I hiss

"Don't like it? Too bad. This city is ours. Ours! Don't think I can take you? 100 septims says I can punch you back where you came from."

"You're on."

"All right, fists only. And none of that magic stuff, either. Let's go!"

I throw about two punches and he's already down.

"That wasn't a fair swing!"

"You lost, give me my money."

"Yeah, here." he spits at me and hands me the gold.

I walk back to my room. I get a few scowls from the nords at the bar. I definitely have a reputation now. I need to stay quiet and lock my door for the night, the barbarians might try to throw me over the bridge next to the stables. By now it's 8. I climb into the bed. It's much more comfortable than the ones you'd find at the assemblage. I get comfortable and fall into a much needed sleep, wondering what tomorrow might bring.


	2. Chapter 2:A New Start

Chapter 2:

That was probably one of the best sleeps I've had in years. I get up and buy some breakfast, as well as some food for the road. I head back over to the smith's shop to pick up my armor. Then I go into the backroom and try it on. It fits perfectly, Oengul is truly the best smith in Windhelm. I travel to the stables.

"So you're going to Riften, are you some sort of sellsword?"

"Yes, actually."

"It seems like we've been getting more and more of those since the start of the Civil War. That'll be 20 gold."

I pay him and climb into the back of the carriage.

"If you've never been to Riften, be sure to visit the Black-Briar meadery. A few mugs of that and you'll forget all about the long trip."

We travel for a few hours until we reach Riften. There's a Khajiit caravan just outside the city.

"Tools, wares and weaponry, all for sale here!"I have no interest in their goods, it would give me a bad reputation if I delt with them. I get off the carriage and start to walk towards the gate, but I'm stopped by a guard.

"Hold there. Before I let you into Riften, you'll need to pay the visitors tax."

"What's the tax for?"

"For the privilege of entering the city. What does it matter?"

"This is obviously a shakedown."

"All right, keep your voice down...want everyone to hear you? I'll let you in, just let me unlock the gate." He unlocks the door. "The gate's unlocked, go ahead in when you're ready."

I walk through the gate. The city smells like a huge sewer. It's almost as though you could smell the corruption of the town just by walking in.

I''m stopped by a large nord.

"I don't know you, you in Riften looking for trouble?"

"What's it to you?"

"Don't say something you'll regret. Last thing the Black-Briars need is some loudmouth tryin' to meddle in their affairs."

"Who are the Black-Briars?"

"The Black-Briars have Riften in their pocket, and the Thieves Guild watchin' their back. So keep your nose out of their business. Me, I'm Maul. I watch the streets for 'em. If you need dirt of anythin', I'm your guy...but it'll cost you."

"I'll just stay out of your way."

"Suit yourself, I'll be at the docks if you change your mind."

Riften is full of thieves and beggars. But it houses a few more argonians than the average town, probably because it reminds them of their homeland. It's somewhat comforting. Even though I prefer to hunt alone, it still feels good to be around other Hist-brothers. I walk into The Bee and Barb where a priest is ranting.

"People of Riften! I beg you to listen!" I tune out his tirade. I haven't delt with any kind of religion in ages, especially not the Aedra. The inn is owned by two argonians. I feel I could call this place home for a long while. I sit at the bar next to a nord woman. She smiles at me.

"Ey, Argonian, what do you call yourself?" she has a very thick nordic accent. It's much more warm and welcoming than the nords back home. It's almost...soothing.

"I'm He-Who-Stands-Alone. But you can just call me Lone." I give her a toothy smile back. She's rather attractive for a nord, not too muscular either, unlike many women of Skyrim I've met.

"Lone...I like it. The name's Friska Prongs. Maybe you've heard of me."

"Friska, Friska...oh yes, now I remember, you're the Dragonborn! The powerful and legendary slayer of great lizards! Looks like I better watch out, our you'll take a swing at me!" I joke. She laughs that beautifully hearty nord laugh. I honestly thought she wouldn't think of it as funny, but it seems as though I'm leaving a good impression already, which is not usually the case in my times I've talked to women.

"Say, Lone. Why don't I buy us a few rounds? What say you?"

"I'm up for some of that famous Black-Briar mead any day."

"I'm glad to have found a good drinking partner. Keerava, bring us a few Black-Briar Reserves."

She hands the inn-owner a large sack of coins. I'd say there was about 600 gold in there. I knew she was the Dragonborn, but she's extremely rich to afford such a purchase. Or maybe she's just an alcoholic with a serious problem. But since she owns a home in almost every hold, I seriously doubt that it's the latter. The ale is sweeter than any kind of brew I've ever tasted. I can already feel it begin to soothe my nerves. The carriage driver was right. You'll forget all about...what was it again? I can't remember. I slam my bottle on the counter.

"Woah, lizard-man. You really gulped that down. Here's another." Talen-Jei walks over to the bar.

"Or you could try one of our signature drinks."

"Sing-i-ture drinks?" That century old alcohol is really starting to affect me.

"Oh yes, we have my favorite, the Velvet Lechance, the Cliff Racer, which packs quite a punch, and the White-Gold Tower. All my own recipes I brought to Skyrim from Black-Marsh. They're all quite delicious I can assure you."

Friska laughs again, "How about four Cliff Racers?!"

"Sounds like a wonder-fusa idea!" was I too loud? Oh well, I don't care anyway, Talen gives us our drinks, and I'm half sure that we'll be blacking out or going on a crazy adventure together before the night is over. Possibly both.

"We should take these to go? Why don't you come alone with me and clear out a bandit camp? The leader has a bounty on his head, the jarl's steward sent me after him."

"Of cour-se." I say after finishing another Black-Briar Reserve.

Friska hands me a large daedric sword. "It's got an enchantment on it, poisons your foes without having to waste a single drop of a damage health potion. I usually reserve it for my companions, but my usual follower is back in Markarth, visiting family."

The blade feels...powerful. You can feel it's energy just by holding the hilt.

"Where is thus-bandit campie?"

"Riften watchtower. A couple of rouge Orc hunters have been causing trouble for the locals. Shouldn't be too hard, especially if I have a strong and hands...oh! That must be the ale talking! We should head out. It's close by, so it shouldn't take too long. They won't see us coming at night." she looks a bit, blurry, almost like she's glowing. Maybe she's an angel.

"It's a great plan! Let's moove out."

"I knew you'd be up to the challenge."

We dance out of The Bee and Barb, not caring about what any of the other inn patrons thought of us.

It was a generally short trip, filled with drunken singing and skipping. Friska actually fell down a couple of times. We finally reached the watchtower.

"Shhhh, be very, very quiet. If the lookout spots us or hears us, you could find an arrow in your chest."

She moves through the thick brush like a snake. She never falters, even in this state. I try to keep up with her, but I end up stepping on a branch, and it snaps in two. The orc lookout looks in my general direction.

"Who's there?!" he shouts. I use an invisibility spell and stay perfectly still, well as still as I can stay in my condition. An arrow flies into his throat, and he's silenced. I've never seen such a perfect shot, even in my time with the legion. She softly sprints into the fort and motions for me to follow. I carefully step around all the rocks that could possibly lead to me falling on my face, I couldn't risk embarrassing myself, or spilling the mead. Friska brandishes her sword. I do the same. There's another heavily armored orc hunter at the top of the stairs. The one spot that isn't covered is his neck, Friska makes her way up the stone steps and when she reaches the top, she stabs him in the back of the neck. He gurgles then falls down the stairs. She turns around, "Lone, behind you!" I turn fast, and my tail hits metal. I had hit a returning orc hunter in the stomach, and he was tumbling down the stairs. He hits the ground with a thud, and we both know that he's dead.

"I meant to do that."

"I'm sure you did." scoffs Friska. "Let's go find their treasure, we'll split it." We go to the top of the watchtower where there's a large chest at the foot of a bed. Friska opens it up, it's not locked. There's about 200 gold in there. She pushes her portion the gold into her sack of gold and hands me the other half.

"Here's your payment, if the ale wasn't enough. We'll be spending the night here, unless you want to walk back to the city at 11 o'clock at night."

"It's not a problem, I've slept in worse places."

"Why don't we set up camp and finish those Cliff Racers?"

"That's the best idea you've had all night."


End file.
